


An Unlikely Assassin

by YinNocturne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Creature Inheritance, Evil Dumbledore, Incubi/Succubae, M/M, Still Evil Voldemort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:11:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YinNocturne/pseuds/YinNocturne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Um, the title now makes no sense, but anyway...<br/>Summary is: Harry becomes an incubus, after recieving a vision from Voldemort about Dumbledores dastardly plans...<br/>It's better than it sounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unlikely Assassin

**Author's Note:**

> *blushes* contains the first slash scene I've written, be nice to me, I hope it's at least somewhat accurate - I'm not in possession of the necessary organs and a virgin (should I be admitting this??) so I have very little frame of reference...

It was dusk on Halloween night 1997, when the spark that changed the Wizarding world was finally born. In that moment Harry Potter was walking aimlessly through the Forest of Dean; having _Apparated_ there in a fit of rage after receiving a vision from Voldemort detailing Dumbledore’s plan to sacrifice both Harry and the Dark Lord in an ancient ritual to make him the Supreme Ruler of the Wizarding world. 

The ritual was the blackest of Darke magicks, the kind only willing performed the by demonic or completely insane. It involved bleeding a virgin wizard and harvesting an unwilling tainted soul on the night of the full moon, during the depths of winter. If Dumbledore had succeeded he would have called forth the demons Aklarath, Yoruz and Felemia. That particular trio of demons are the executioners, of a kind, of the demonic realms – they are torturers and sadists who delight in fresh prey, which they only get when someone is stupid enough to summon them, which happens every fifty years or so.

Only after wandering the twisting paths of the forest for several hours had his rage simmered down to an icy pool of undying hatred for Voldemort and Dumbledore along with a resounding feeling of pity for the Wizarding public – who had no idea of the treachery of the so called ‘Leader of the Light’. They were well and truly caught between a rock and a hard place; and they would likely continued to blind themselves with denial until it was too late, and the damage was irreversible.

In a small house on the edge of the forest, an old grandfather clock chimed twelve marching notes and the legendary moment began. Barely ten seconds later the moment was over, without any kind of fanfare, or indeed any indicator at all that something momentous had occurred. In fact, Harry, the locus of this event, felt no different at all. He only felt a slight urge to curl up and sleep in the comfortable looking oak tree on the other side of the small clearing he had ended up in in his travels. Harry did not pause to wonder at the strangeness of his actions, he merely climbed into the low branches and immediately fell asleep, snuggled comfortably in the lowest fork; dreams peaceful and his sleep uninterrupted for the first time in many years.

*Ψ*

Harry awoke to a feeling of deep loneliness and an aching hunger that dug deep furrows into his belly and blinded all other thoughts. His rational mind absent, he ran off of instincts _Apparating_ into Diagon Alley, his subconscious telling him that he could find help and comfort there.

He had taken only one step into the Alley when he was taken harshly by the arm.

“Ya fool! What were ya thinkin’, coming out here like tha’ in broad daylight?” a gruff voice muttered as he was dragged off into Knockturne Alley. Pulling him deeper in the Alley the voice continued muttering about foolish boys who were going to get themselves killed, but Harry’s his mind refused to process the words, it was more occupied with the intense gnawing hunger that was growing with every second.

As they stumbled to a halt outside a rundown shop the voice said, “Lift yer head up, boy.” Blindly Harry did, looking vacantly at the scarred man in front of him. The man took one look at his eyes and cussed, turning to the dank doorway he stuck his head inside the decrepit building they were standing in front of. “Oi, Dan; ya mind bein’ food?” he yelled ahead of them as he pulled Harry into the front hallway.

“Possibly, Jack. It depends on who would be doing the eating.” Dan drawled from the doorway of the first room down the corridor and gestured them inside.

“This kid.” Jack said, dragging Harry in behind him. “He hasn’t fed in Mercy knows how long.”

“What! Oh the poor thing! Let me take him into one of the back rooms. He’ll be right in a jiffy.” Dan said leading Harry back out into the hallway and then towards one of the doors farther down.

“Wait a moment Dan. I dun know what kind he is.” Jack calls half-heartedly after his friend, though he knows well enough that when Dan gets an idea in his head he’s thrice as stubborn as a mule.

“Well then, we’ll just have to find out, won’t we.” Dan said primly, staring condescendingly at Jack over his shoulder before turning back to Harry and ushering him though a redwood door.

Once Dan had securely locked and warded the room, he stripped off and sat on the small bed in corner of the room. “Well, go on. Don’t be shy now,” he said. “You need to feed; you’ll know instinctively what you need and how to get it.” He was perfectly calm for someone who was about to become food, if he’d been in a more clear-headed state Harry might have questioned the man’s sanity. As it was Harry didn’t hear much of it, but when he heard the word ‘feed’ he jumped into action, pouncing on Dan and knocking him over; much to Dan’s amusement. Then he shimmied down his body and took his soft cock into his mouth. He whined as his lips closed around the flaccid shaft; it was supposed to be hard, he knew it was in the deepest recesses of his brain that was governed only by instinct.

“Ah, a true little incubus aren’t you, not one of those hybrids; it’s alright little one, you’re doing it right.” He cooed, laying an encouraging hand on Harry’s chaotic hair, it certainly wouldn’t be a hardship to keep this little one fed until he moved on.

Slightly more lucid now that he could see an end to the hunger Harry nodded then stared determinedly at the now half-hard cock in front of him.

As he slid it back into his mouth he sucked lightly on the head, then harder as he felt it twitch. Sliding down the length, he swirled his tongue over the vein on the underside and was elated when he felt it stiffen to full mast. Pulling back he tongued at the slit and lightly scraped back the foreskin with his teeth. Quite enjoying himself now he slid the down until the head was resting in his throat, and then he swallowed. As he did a strangled moan jolted him back to awareness as a long forgotten instinct told him that he would soon be satisfied. Repeating the technique twice more he was rewarded with a several mouthfuls a warm, sticky, yummy cum; humming slightly he pulled back then licked at the head to catch the last drips. Once he was sure that was all he was going to get, he crawled up Dan’s body and fell asleep curled up in his side.

*Ψ*

“Aww, would’ya look at that? Ain’t he cute?” Dan cooed over Harry’s unconscious form, “He looks just like a little kitten!”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up you wanker! You’ve been repeatin’ yerself over and over again the whole past hour.”

“But-“Dan was cut off by a small mewl, and the slow blinking of vibrant emerald eyes. “Hey, he’s waking up.” He turned to the green eyed incubus curled up half beside him, half on top of him and cooed, “Heya, sweetie, how you feeling? Hmm?”

“Huh, wha…’ Harry said, bleary eyed.


End file.
